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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28816236">three questions</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/houseofpercypotter/pseuds/houseofpercypotter'>houseofpercypotter</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Comedy, Crack, Draco Malfoy Being an Asshole, F/M, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Humor, I think we all wish Draco would just shut up, Ministry of Magic Employee Hermione Granger, One Shot, Post-Hogwarts, Post-War, Rich Draco Malfoy, Romance, attempts at fluff, poor harry :(, the poor wasp</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 11:21:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,174</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28816236</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/houseofpercypotter/pseuds/houseofpercypotter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione’s mother had always told her about the three questions you can never ask someone. It was common decency, obviously. // Draco Malfoy had always paraded around his impeccable manners as if they were a trophy that bragged of his perfect pureblood breeding. Imagine Hermione’s surprise when the pureblood elitist himself asks all three forbidden questions.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>102</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>three questions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is pure, unadulterated crack. </p><p>I'm so sorry for what you're about to read...but honestly I'm really not. </p><p>Thank you so much to the person who encouraged me to write this atrocity: <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/LippiLions19/pseuds/LippiLions19">LippiLions19</a> and ensured me it was funny. </p><p>And thank you to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ireallyenjoyforgetting/pseuds/Ireallyenjoyforgetting">Ireallyenjoyforgetting</a> for beta reading it!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hermione’s mother had always told her about the three questions you can never ask someone. Honestly, it was just <em> common decency </em>. She lived her life avoiding these three forbidden questions, and it wasn’t like it was hard. </p><p>Imagine her annoyance when Draco Malfoy embarrassed her by asking each and every one of them.</p>
<hr/><p><b>Question Number 1: </b> <b> <em>How old are you?</em> </b></p><p>The first of his offenses, admittedly, was the mildest of the three. That didn’t stop her ire from spiking when he asked it. </p><p>They had barely reacquainted, after all. He had no business asking such offensive questions. </p><p>The interaction went like this: </p><p>They had run into each other at a florist. He was shopping for flowers for his mother; she was looking for a nice bouquet to bring to the Burrow for Sunday brunch. </p><p>It was awkward at first, when he walked into her.</p><p>“Sorry! Oh. Granger. It’s you.” </p><p>A beat of silence descended upon them, and Draco wished he could be anywhere else. </p><p>“How’s it going with Weasley?”</p><p>“We broke up,” she responded flatly. </p><p>Perhaps this was a good time to run headfirst into a wall? He knew that they’d broken up, obviously — it had been all over the front pages of papers. </p><p>“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.”</p><p>“No, you’re not.” </p><p>“You’re right. I’m not.” He paused again. “Well, are you seeing anyone else?”</p><p>“Not at the moment, no,” she responded. </p><p>“But aren’t you older than me?” </p><p><em> “ </em>We were in the same year, Malfoy!” </p><p>“Right, well. I could have sworn you were older? How old are you? Don’t muggles have some saying about a biological clock?” He flinched. Even to his ears, that had sounded bad. Truly, he wasn’t trying to be an asshole. It just seemed to come naturally. </p><p>Looking down at the flower bouquet she was holding, she noticed a wasp sitting in the middle of petals, rolling around happily through the copious amounts of pollen. </p><p>She unceremoniously shoved the flowers in his face. She felt bad for the wasp. </p><p>Hermione tried her best not to laugh when he showed up at her office door the next day with one very puffy eye. </p><p>Afterwards, they went to a muggle pharmacy together so that she could buy him some soothing aloe. He bought her a butterbeer in Diagon Alley to apologize for being rude. </p>
<hr/><p><b>Question Number 2: </b> <b> <em>How much money do you make? </em> </b></p><p>Hinting to her boss for over a year that she wanted a promotion had finally paid off. Perks included more control over legislation and a new office. (That was it.) </p><p>Draco had graciously agreed to help her move her stuff from her old office, to the new shiny corner one. It was a whole 2 square feet larger. But, at least it was closer to the kitchens. </p><p>In his arms he carried a golden vase filled to the brim with orchids. From top to bottom, the vase was painted with blue peacocks. </p><p>It was, Hermione thought, the ugliest thing she’d ever laid eyes on. </p><p>When he handed it off to her, it was much heavier than expected. She promptly dropped it on the floor.</p><p>“Why the fuck is this so heavy? What is this made out of? Real gold???” Hermione was panting as she attempted to pick up the vase. This was more exercise than she’s had in a year. </p><p>“Well yes! Of course it is. Malfoys always get the best. And gold is the best.”</p><p>“You couldn’t have picked something better looking then?”</p><p>Draco ignored her, opting to look around the office and hum to himself. </p><p>“Wow, this place is a dump,” he acknowledged, as she glared at him.</p><p>“Maybe you can sell the vase to buy some wall hangings. Cover up that atrocious wallpaper. Are those—” he squinted, “miniature pictures of Potter’s face? As a pattern?” </p><p>She had to agree with him on that. The wallpaper was almost as ugly as the vase. Almost. </p><p>“Do they at least pay you well enough to work in this terrible building, in this horrendous room?”</p><p>“Well no—”</p><p>“Well exactly how much are they paying you then?” </p><p>She took off her heel and threw it at him. </p><p>The bad news? It had missed its mark. (The family jewels). </p><p>The good news? It had hit his face. (Yes, she was quite aware she had bad aim, <em> thank you very much).  </em></p><p>“Oi! Woman! What’s your problem?”</p><p>“You’re not supposed to ask people how much they make, you git.” From the divot in his cheek that the stiletto had punctured, an angry purple welt had started to grow. </p><p>Should she feel sorry? Probably. Did she feel sorry? Absolutely not.  </p><p>“Why?! What’s so bad about the question? Here go ahead and ask me! I wouldn’t care at all.” </p><p>“How can I ask you how much you make? You’re unemployed, living off your family’s fortune.”</p><p>Draco smirked at her. “You’re damn right.”</p>
<hr/><p><b>Question Number 3: </b> <b> <em>Are you pregnant? </em> </b></p><p>“<em>Draco” </em>she hissed, without explanation. Obviously, what he had asked was inappropriate. Why would she need to explain why that was just not something that he could ask? </p><p>To her ultimate chagrin, he did not appear to get the memo. </p><p>“What?” He was entirely clueless. That was better than outright trying to be rude, she supposed. Not by much though. </p><p>She needed to teach him about how to filter his speech. </p><p>“Oh my god, Draco, You <em> cannot </em> just ask Harry Potter if he’s pregnant! How would that even be possible?” </p><p>Draco had the audacity to shrug at her. “Seahorses do it. Muggle technology is inventing some <em> fascinating </em> things. Think about it Hermione! With magic, anything is possible.” </p><p>As this transpired, Harry Potter continued sitting there at their table — in the middle of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, no less — just trying to eat his ice cream without attracting too much attention. </p><p>Frankly, Harry didn’t care. Let people say what they want, was the motto he lived by. He was the <em> fucking </em>savior of the Wizarding World. Twice! No Malfoy could ever bring him down!  </p><p>Hermione and Draco continued bickering. </p><p>Harry started humming to himself. <em> Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.  </em></p><p>Harry shoveled some <em> Harry Potter </em>flavored ice cream into his mouth. It was a new flavor on the menu featuring chocolate ice cream with caramel swirls, cookie dough, and lightning bolt shaped chocolate chips. The shop had also somehow managed to charm it to have an aftertaste of Harry Potter: loyal, brave, and nice, with just a hint of stupid. How they had managed to convert personality traits into flavors, he’d never know. </p><p>“Oi! Potter! Lay off the ice cream!”</p><p>
  <em> Ouch.  </em>
</p><p>Hermione had taken to folding her arms in exasperation while blinking furiously as if she could <em> I Dream of Jeannie* </em> her way out of this situation. “This is the last time I am taking you anywhere. I’m going to put bars on your window Draco Malfoy,” Hermione screeched. </p><p>“Are you going to put me in some handcuffs to match?”</p><p>“<em>Draco!” </em></p><p>Harry hid under the table and covered his ears.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*I Dream of Jeannie is an old American sitcom about a genie name Jeannie who could make wishes come true by folding her arms and blinking.<br/>Also please do not follow Draco's lead of inciting body shaming of any way, shape, or form! Please promote body positivity and know that everyone is beautiful :))) Bad Draco. </p><p>Follow our socials:<br/>Tumblr: <a href="https://houseofpercypotter.tumblr.com/">houseofpercypotter</a><br/>Instagram: <a href="https://www.instagram.com/houseofpercypotter/?hl=en">houseofpercypotter</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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